


Fealty

by toesohnoes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP. As the newly crowned king and queen, Jon and Dany spend their first night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fealty

**Author's Note:**

> Written at my [Tumblr](http://toestastegood.tumblr.com/tagged/smut). I'm only half-way through A Clash of Kings so it's non-canon for anything after that.

Her hair is like liquid silver, flowing through his fingers, as he presses his lips to hers. It's gentle rather than daring; only the warmth of her body against his stops him from trembling. Her small, pert breasts press against his chest, their skin separated only by soft, thin material. His palms long to take hold of her.

Jon's mouth moves from her lips to kiss her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. He reaches behind her and finds the tie that holds up her dress. With one deft pull the knot unravels and the material slips from her body like a silk waterfall. She looks up at him, her violet eyes serene and undemanding, as he takes in the sight of her body, exposed before him.

His mouth feels dry and his head feels light; spending years on the Wall, he has never before taken in the sight of a woman's body. Now, with a ring on his finger and a promise in his heart, he can look freely. Dany's body is a crafted gift, and he thinks he might never be able to stop staring.

Yet her hands reach for his clothing, equally eager, as she pulls him free and leaves him bare to her eyes, his skin scarred and hard, his muscles hard from war. At the sight, her tongue flicks over her lips; he's never wanted anything more than he wants her now.

They kiss again, soft and simple, while her hands bracket his face. She kisses with the confidence of one who knows what she is doing; he has heard of her past marriage and knows that he is not the first to taste her sweet lips. A sad story, it doesn't leave him jealous. It makes him want to take her in his arms and promise that he will never leave her.

She leads him to the bed, large and lush as is fitting a king and queen, and slides into his lap. His cock is hard and wanting - and, this time, he doesn't have to worry. There will be no bastard Snows brought into the world, only young children with dragon's blood running through their veins.

Dany presses kisses against him, before trailing her fingers across his lips. "I like your mouth," she says, with a smile on her face. She wriggles her hips, grinding herself against him, until it makes him cry out and hold onto her, his arms wrapped around her waist. "It's very pretty."  
"A man shouldn't be pretty," Jon states, but it's difficult to remain concerned with such matters when Dany rides atop him with such ease.

Dany takes his bottom lip between her teeth and bites on it with Dothraki bloodlust. Pain shoots through him, a sharp, stinging shock, and she smiles at the way his eyes widen - wild and dangerous, she is like a dragon herself.

"I don't..." Jon can't look away from her, and he can't summon the ability to speak. "I've never..."  
"I know," she assures him. She kisses his brow, and runs her fingers through the dark curls of his hair. When her hand slips away from him, it slides down between their bodies instead, where she can grasp hold of his stiff length. He chokes on a groan at the feeling of her hand, so much softer than his own. She rises on her strong thighs and guides him inside her, lowering herself inch by inch onto him; so tight, so hot, so mind-blowingly perfect.

His forehead falls against her shoulder and he gasps and pants, breathing in the scent of her, lost in the sensation: his queen, his khaleesi, his wife. He knows already that she will be his everything.

She settles down as far as she can go, taking all of him into her cunt. He holds onto her, breathless and helpless, defeated by her body as he has never been by a sword. He murmurs her name against her skin; she strokes her hands over his shoulders and whispers to him in languages he can't understand, strange words that roll over his ears like music.

Gently, her hips roll, rising and falling in a rhythm like the waves of the ocean itself. He shifts, pushing upwards to meet her, deeper and stronger; it makes her moan for him, her nails scraping over his skin.

She pounds harder onto him, forcing the air from his lungs; so tight, so wet, her body clenching around him with perfect friction. The muscle in his jaw clenches and he clings onto her hips, pressing bruises onto her skin as his toes curl and he thrusts up to meet her, again and again, both of them chasing the same thing.

She takes hold of one of his hands and guides it between them, pushing his attention down between the coarse curls of her sex. He can feel himself inside her, stretching wide, but that isn't where she draws his fingers.

She takes his fingers to a swollen nub of flesh, and the simplest pressure against it makes her cry out, a sound that surely ought to make the walls of their castle quake. He presses against it again, moving and exploring, his eyes watching eagerly as he sees the ways that he can make her feel. It makes him feel more powerful than the command of an army has ever done.

She chants his name like a prayer to the gods as they speed up together, hands and cock and cunt working in tandem, chasing the finest pleasure on their wedding night; Jon thinks that he can see forever, the future, a kingdom in which he no longer has to lose the people that he loves, in which he can have a family and peace at Daenerys's side. He climaxes inside her with the roar of the wolf, his eyes screwed shut as his seed spills forth, but his mind is still spinning when she climbs off of him and pushes him down between her legs. Her glistening sex waits for his attention, and when he searches for her gaze in quiet questioning she prompts him, one hand on his shoulder, until he licks and sucks as she wants him to, a king serving his queen, and a husband pleasing his wife.


End file.
